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APPOMATTOX 



General Joshua L. Chamberlain 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2010 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/appomattoxOOcham 



APPOMATTOX 

Paper Read before the New York Commandery 
Loyal Legion of the United States 

October Seventh, 1903 



By ^^ 
General Joshua L. Chamberlain 



10-3 : 









Eleanor Wyllys Allen 
June 21, 1938 



APPOMATTOX 

By Brevet Major-General Joshua L. Chamberlain, U. S Vols. 

I AM to speak of what came under my observation 
in the action at Appomattox Courthouse and the 
circumstances attending the surrender of the Army of 
Northern Virginia, April 9, 1865. 

You will understand that I am not attempting to present 
matters upon a uniform scale or to mark the relative merits 
of participants. This is only the story of what I saw and 
felt and thought,— in fact, my personal experience, in- 
cluding something of the emotions awakened and the 
reflections suggested by that momentous consummation. 

In order that you may understand the pressure of 
conditions and the temper of our spirits in this last action, 
permit me to recur briefly to the situation of affairs. The 
great blow had been struck, the long hold loosened. Lee's 
communications had been cut; his intrenched lines broken 
and overrun; his right rolled up; Richmond and Petersburg 
evacuated by the Confederate forces and officials, and in 
our possession; his broken army in full retreat, or rather, 
desperately endeavoring to get off, — either to Danville, to 
effect a junction with Johnston in North Carolina, or to 
Lynchburg, where they might rally for one more forlorn 
but possibly long resistance. Meade with two corps of the 
Army of the Potomac — the Second and Sixth — was pressing 
Lee's rear; while Sheridan with his cavalry — ^three divisions 
— and our Fifth Corps of infantry under Griffin was making 
a flying march to circumvent Lee's path and plans; our 
combined forces all the while seeking to draw him to final 
battle, or compel him to surrender. 

The 8th of April found the Fifth Corps at Prospect 



2 APPOMATTOX 

Station, on the South Side Railroad, nearly abreast of the 
head of Lee's retreating column, while Meade was with 
his two corps close upon Lee's rear at New Store, ten miles 
north of us, across the Appomattox. At noon of this day 
General Ord, of the AiTny of the James, joined us with two 
divisions of the Twenty-fourth Corps under General Gibbon, 
and Bimey's division of the Twenty-fifth Corps, — colored 
troops ; Ord, by virtue of seniority, becoming commanding 
officer of the whole. He was a stranger to us all, but his 
simple and cordial manner towards Sheridan and Griffin, 
and even to us subordinates, made him welcome. We 
pushed on, — the cavalry ahead. 

The Fifth Corps had a very hard march that day, — 
made more so in the afternoon and night by the lumbering 
obstructions of the rear of Ord's tired column, by courtesy 
given the road before us, the incessant check fretting our 
men almost to mutiny. We had been rushed all day to 
keep up with the cavalry, but this constant checking was 
worse. We did not know that Grant had sent orders for 
the Fifth Corps to march all night without halting; but it 
was not necessary for us to know it. After twenty-nine 
miles of this kind of marching, at the blackest hour of night, 
human nature called a halt. Dropping by the roadside, 
right and left, wet or dry, down went the men as in a swoon. 
Officers slid out of saddle, loosened the girth, slipped 
an arm through a loop of bridle-rein, and sunk to sleep. 
Horses stood with drooping heads just above their masters' 
faces. All dreaming, — one knows not what, of past or 
coming, possible or fated. 

Scarcely is the first broken dream begun when a cavalry 
man comes splashing down the road, and vigorously dis- 
mounts, pulling from his jacket front a crumpled note. 
The sentinel standing watch by his commander, worn in 
body but alert in every sense, touches your shoulder. 
"Orders, sir, I think!" You rise on elbow, strike a match, 
and with smarting, streaming eyes read the brief, thrilling 
note, from Sheridan — like this, as I remember: "I have 
cut across the enemy at Appomattox Station, and captured 



APPOMATTOX 3 

three of his trains. If you can possibly push your infantry 
up here to-night, we will have great results in the morning." 
Ah, sleep no more! The startling bugle notes ring out 
"The General" — "To the march!" Word is sent for the 
men to take a bite of such as they had for food : the prom- 
ised rations would not be up till noon, and by that time 
we should be — where? Few try to eat, no matter what. 
Meanwhile, almost with one foot in the stirrup you take 
from the hands of the black boy a tin plate of nondescript 
food and a dipper of miscalled coffee, — all equally black, 
like the night around. You eat and drink at a swallow; 
mount, and away to get to the head of the column before 
you sound the "Forward." They are there — the men: 
shivering to their senses as if risen out of the earth, but 
something in them not of it! Now sounds the " Forward, " 
for the last time in our long-drawn strife ; and they move 
— these men — sleepless, supperless, breakfastless , sore- 
footed, stiff-jointed, sense-benumbed, but with flushed 
faces pressing for the front. 

By sunrise we have reached Appomattox Station, where 
Sheridan has left the captured trains. A staff-ofhcer is 
here to turn us square to the right, — to the Appomattox 
River, cutting across Lee's retreat. Already we hear the 
sharp ring of the horse-artillery, answered ever and anon 
by heavier field guns; and drawing nearer, the crack of 
cavalry carbines; and unmistakeably, too, the graver roll 
of musketry of infantry. There is no mistake. Sheridan 
is square across the enemy's front, and with that glorious 
cavalry alone is holding at bay all that is left of the proudest 
army of the Confederacy. It has come at last, — ^the su- 
preme hour! No thought of human wants or weakness now: 
all for the front; all for the flag, for the final stroke 
to make its meaning real. These men of the Potomac and 
the James, side by side, at the double in time and column, 
now one and now the other in the road or the fields beside. 
One striking feature I can never forget, — Bimey's black 
men abreast with us, pressing forward to save the white 
man's country. 



4 • APPOMATTOX 

I had two brigades, my own and Gregory's, about 
midway of our hurrying column. Upon our intense pro- 
cession comes dashing out of a woods road on the right 
a cavalry staff-officer. With sharp salutation he exclaims: 
" General Sheridan wishes you to break off from this column 
and come to his support. The rebel infantry is pressing 
him hard. Our men are falling back. Don't wait for 
orders through the regular channels, but act on this at 
once!" 

Sharp work now! Guided by the staff-officer, at cavalry 
speed we break out from the column and push through the 
woods, right upon Sheridan's battle-flag gleaming amidst 
the smoke of his batteries in the edge of the open field. 
Weird-looking flag it was: fork-tailed, red and white, the 
two bands that composed it each charged with a star of 
the contrasting color; two eyes sternly glaring through the 
cannon-cloud. Beneath it, that storm-centre spirit, that 
form of condensed energies, mounted on the grim charger, 
Rienzi, that turned the battle of the Shenandoah, — both, 
rider and steed, of an unearthly shade of darkness, terrible 
to look upon, as if masking some unknown powers. 

Right before us, our cavalry, Devins's division, gallantly 
stemming the surges of the old Stonewall brigade, desperate 
to beat its way through. I ride straight to Sheridan. A 
dark smile and impetuous gesture are my only orders. 
Forward into double lines of battle, past Sheridan, his 
guns, his cavalry, and on for the quivering crest! For a 
moment it is a glorious sight: every arm of the service in 
full play, — cavalry, artillery, infantry; then a sudden 
shifting scene as the cavalry, disengaged by successive 
squadrons, rally under their bugle-calls with beautiful 
precision and promptitude, and sweep like a storm-cloud 
beyond our right to close in on the enemy's left and com- 
plete the fateful envelopment. 

We take up the battle. Gregory follows in on my left. 
It is a formidable front we make. The scene darkens. In 
a few minutes the tide is turned ; the incoming wave is at 
high flood; the barrier recedes. In truth, the Stonewall 



APPOMATTOX c 

men hardly show their well-proved mettle. They seem 
astonished to see before them these familiar flags of their 
old antagonists, not having thought it possible that we 
could match our cavalry and march around and across 
their pressing columns. 

Their last hope is gone, — to break through our cavalry 
before our infantry can get up. Neither to Danville nor 
to Lynchburg can they cut their way; and close upon their 
rear, five miles away, are pressing the Second and Sixth 
Corps of the Army of the Potomac. It is the end ! They are 
now giving way, but keep good front, by force of old habit. 
Half way up the slope they make a stand, with what per- 
haps they think a good omen, — behind a stone wall. I 
try a little artillery on them, which directs their thoughts 
towards the crest behind them, and stiffen my lines for a 
rush, anxious for that crest myself. My intensity may have 
seemed like excitement. For Griffin comes up, quizzing me 
in his queer way of hitting off our weak points when we 
get a little too serious ; accusing me of mistaking a bloom- 
ing peach tree for a rebel flag, where I was dropping a 
few shells into a rallying crowd. I apologize— I was a 
little near-sighted, and had n't been experienced in long- 
range fighting. But as for peaches, I was going to 
get some if the pits did n't sit too hard on our 
stomachs." 

But now comes up Ord with a positive order : " Don't 
expose your lines on that crest. The enemy have massed 
their guns to give it a raking fire the moment you set 
foot there." I thought I saw a qualifying look as he 
turned away. But left alone, youth struggled with pru- 
dence. My troops were in a bad position down here. I 
did not like to be " the under dog. " It was much better to 
be on top and at least know what there was beyond. 
So I thought of Grant and his permission to " push 
things" when we got them going; and of Sheridan and 
his last words as he rode away with his cavalry, smiting 
his hands together — "Now smash 'em, I tell you; smash 
em!" So we took this for orders, and on the crest we 



b APPOMATTOX 

stood. One booming cannon-shot passed close along our 
front, and in the next moment all was still. 

We had done it, — ^had " exposed ourselves to the view of 
the enemy. " But it was an exposure that worked two ways. 
For there burst upon our vision a mighty scene, fit cadence 
of the story of tumultuous years. Encompassed by the 
cordon of steel that crowned the heights about the court- 
house, on the slopes of the valley formed by the sources 
of the Appomattox, lay the remnants of that far-famed 
army, counterpart and companion of our own in mo- 
mentous history, — the Army of Northern Virginia — Lee's 



army 



It was hilly, broken ground, in effect a vast amphi- 
theatre, stretching a mile perhaps from crest to crest. On 
the several confronting slopes before us dusky masses of 
infantry suddenly resting in place ; blocks of artillery, stand- 
ing fast in column or mechanically swung into park; clouds 
of cavalry, small and great, slowly moving, in simple rest- 
lessness; — all without apparent attempt at offence or de- 
fence, or even military order. 

In the hollow is the Appomattox, — which w^e had made 
the dead-line for our baffled foe, for its whole length, a 
hundred miles; here but a rivulet that might almost be 
stepped over dry-shod, and at the road crossing not thought 
worth while to bridge. Around its edges, now trodden to 
mire, swarms an indescribable crowd: worn-out soldier 
struggling to the front; demoralized citizen and denizen, 
white, black, and all shades between, — following Lee's army, 
or flying before these suddenly confronted, terrible Yan- 
kees pictured to them as demon-shaped and. bent; animals 
too, of all forms and grades; vehicles of every description 
and non-description, — public and domestic, four-wheeled, 
or two, or one, — heading and moving in every direction, 
a swarming mass of chaotic confusion. 

All this within sight of every eye on our bristling crest. 
Had one the heart to strike at beings so helpless, the Ap- 
pomattox would quickly become a surpassing Red Sea 
horror. But the very spectacle brings every foot to an 



APPOMATTOX 7 

instinctive halt. We seem the possession of a dream. 
We are lost in a vision of human tragedy. But our light- 
twelve Napoleon guns come rattling up behind us to go 
into battery; we catch the glitter of the cavalry blades and 
brasses beneath the oak groves away to our right, and the 
ominous closing in on the fated foe. 

So with a fervor of devout joy, — as when, perhaps, the 
old crusaders first caught sight of the holy city of their 
quest, — with an up-going of the heart that was half psean, 
half prayer, we dash forward to the consummation. A 
solitary field-piece in the edge of the town gives an angry 
but expiring defiance. We press down a little slope, through 
a little swamp, over a bright swift stream. Our advance 
is already in the town, — only the narrow street between 
the opposing lines, and hardly that. There is wild work, 
that looks like fighting; but not much killing, nor even 
hurting. The disheartened enemy take it easy; our men 
take them easier. It is a wild, mild fusing, — earnest, but 
not deadly earnest. 

A young orderly of mine, unable to contain himself, 
begs permission to go forward, and dashes in, sword-flour- 
ishing as if he were a terrible fellow, — his demonstrations 
seemingly more amusing than resisted; for he soon comes 
back, hugging four sabres to his breast, speechless at his 
achievement. 

We were advancing, — tactically fighting, — and I was 
somewhat mazed as to how much more of the strenuous 
should be required or expected. But I could not give over 
to this weak mood. 

My right was "in the air," advanced, unsupported, 
towards the enemy's general line, exposed to flank attack 
by troops I could see in the distance across the stream. 
I held myself on that extreme flank, where I could see the 
cavalry which we had relieved, now forming m column of 
squadrons ready for a dash to the front, and I was anxiously 
hoping it would save us from the flank attack. Watching 
intently, my eye was caught by the figure of a horseman 
riding out between those lines, soon joined by another, and 



8 • APPOMATTOX 

taking a direction across the cavalry front towards our 
position. They were nearly a mile away, and I curiously 
watched them till lost from sight in the nearer broken ground 
and copses between. 

Suddenly rose to sight another form, close in our own 
front, — a soldierly young figure, handsomely dressed and 
mounted, — a Confederate staff-officer undoubtedly, to whom 
some of my advanced line seemed to be pointing my position. 
Now I see the white flag earnestly borne, and its possible 
purport sweeps before my inner vision like a wraith of 
morning mist. He comes steadily on, — the mysterious 
form in gray, my mood so whimsically sensitive that I could 
even smile at the material of the flag, — wondering where 
in either army was found a towel, and one so white. But 
it bore a mighty message, — that simple emblem of homely 
service, wafted hitherward above the dark and crimsomed 
streams that never can wash themselves away. 

The messenger draws near, dismounts; with grace- 
ful salutation and hardly suppressed emotion delivers his 
message: "Sir, I am from General Gordon. General Lee 
desires a cessation of hostilities until he can hear from 
General Grant as to the proposed surrender." 

What word is this! so long so dearly fought for, so 
feverishly dreamed, but ever snatched away, held hidden 
and aloof; now smiting the senses with a dizzy flash! " Sur- 
render ' ' ? We had no iiimor of this from the messages 
that had been passing between Grant and Lee, for now 
these two days, behind us. "Surrender"? It takes a mo- 
ment to gather one's speech. "Sir," I answer, "that matter 
exceeds my authority. I will send to my superior. General 
Lee is right. He can do no more. " All this with a forced 
calmness, covering a tumult of heart and brain. I bid 
him wait a while, and the message goes up to my corps 
commander, General Grififin, leaving me mazed at the bod- 
ing change. 

Now from the right come foaming up in cavalry fashion 
the two forms I had watched from away beyond. A white 
flag again, held strong aloft, making straight for the little 



APPOMATTOX 9 

group beneath our battle-flag, high borne also, — the red 
Maltese cross on a field of white, that had thrilled hearts 
long ago. I see now that it is one of our cavalry staff in 
lead, — indeed I recognize him, Colonel Whitaker of Custer's 
staff; and, hardly keeping pace with him, a Confederate 
staff-officer. Without dismounting, without salutation, 
the cavalryman shouts: "This is unconditional surrender! 
This is the end!" Then he hastily introduces his com- 
panion, and adds: " I am just from Gordon and Longstreet. 
Gordon says 'For God's sake, stop this infantry, or hell 
will be to pay!' I '11 go to Sheridan, " he adds, and dashes 
away with the white flag, leaving Longstreet's aide with me.i 

I was doubtful of my duty. The flag of truce was in, 
but I had no right to act upon it without orders. There 
was still some firing from various quarters, lulling a little 
where the white flag passed near. But I did not press 
things quite so hard. Just then a last cannon-shot from 
the edge of the town plunges through the breast of a gallant 
and dear young officer in my front line, — Lieutenant Clark, 
of the 185th New York, — the last man killed in the Army 
of the Potomac, if not the last in the Appomattox lines. 
Not a strange thing for war, — this swift stroke of the mortal ; 
but coming after the truce was in, it seemed a cruel fate 
for one so deserving to share his country's joy, and a sad 
peace-offering for us all. 

Shortly comes the order, in due form, to cease firing 
and to halt. There was not much firing to cease from ; but 
"halt," then and there? It is beyond human power to 
stop the men, whose one word and thought and action 
through crimsomed years had been but forward. They had 
seen the flag of truce, and could divine its outcome. But 
the habit was too strong ; they cared not for points of direc- 
tion, but it was forward still, — forward to the end ; fonvard 
to the new beginning; forward to the Nation's second birth! 

But it struck them also in a quite human way. The 

>I think the first Confederate officer who came was Captain P. M. Jones, 
now U. S. District Judge in Alabama; the other, Captain Brown of 
Georgia. 



lO APPOMATTOX 

more the captains cry "Halt! the rebels want to sur- 
render," the more the men want to be there and see it. 
Still to the front, where the real fun is! And the forward 
takes an upward turn. For when we do succeed in stopping 
their advance, we cannot keep their arms and legs from 
flying. 

To the top of fences, and haystacks, and chimneys they 
clamber, to toss their old caps higher in the air, and leave 
the earth as far below them as they can. Dear old General 
Gregory gallops up to inquire the meaning of this strange 
departure from accustomed discipline. "Only that Lee 
wants time to surrender," I answer with stage solemnity. 
''Glory to God!" roars the grave and brave old General, 
dashing upon me with impetuosity that nearly unhorsed 
us both, to grasp and wring my hand, which had not yet 
had time to lower the sword. "Yes, and on earth peace, 
good will towards men," I answered, bringing the thanks- 
giving from heavenward, manward. 

"Your legs have done it, my men," shouts the gallant, 
gray-haired Ord, galloping up cap in hand, generously 
forgiving our disobedience of orders, and rash "exposure" 
on the dubious crest. True enough, their legs had done 
it, — had "matched the cavalry" as Grant admitted, had 
cut around Lee's best doings, and commanded the grand 
halt. But other things too had "done it"; the blood was 
still fresh upon the Quaker road, the White Oak Ridge, 
Five Forks, Farmville, High Bridge, and Sailor's Creek; and 
we take somewhat gravely this compliment of our new 
commander, of the Army of the James. At last, after 
" pardoning something to the spirit of liberty, " we get things 
"quiet along the lines." 

A truce is agreed upon until one o'clock, — it is now ten. 
A conference is to be held, — or rather colloquy, for no one 
here is authorized to say anything about the terms of 
surrender. Six or eight officers from each side meet between 
the lines,near the courthouse, waiting Lee's answer to Grant's 
summons to surrender. There is lively chat here on this un- 
accustomed opportunity for exchange of notes and queries. 



APPOMATTOX II 

The first greetings are not all so dramatic as might be 
thought, for so grave an occasion. " Well, Billy, old boy, 
how goes it?" asks one loyal West Pointer of a classmate 
he had been fighting for four years. " Bad, bad, Charlie, 
bad I tell you; but have you got any whisky?" was the 
response, — not poetic, not idealistic, but historic ; founded 
on fact as to the strength of the demand, but without evi- 
dence of the questionable maxim that the demand creates 
the supply. More of the economic truth was manifest that 
scarcity enhances value. 

Everybody seems acquiescent, and for the moment 
cheerful, — except Sheridan. He does not like the cessation 
of hostilities, and does not conceal his opinion. His natural 
disposition was not sweetened by the circumstance that 
he was fired on by some of the Confederates as he was coming 
up to the meeting under the tiiice. He is for unconditional 
surrender, and thinks we should have banged right on and 
settled all questions without asking them. He strongly 
intimates that some of the free-thinking rebel cavalry 
might take advantage of the truce to get away from us 
But the Confederate officers, one and all, Gordon, Wilcox, 
Heth, "Rooney" Lee, and all the rest assure him of their 
good faith, and that the game is up for them. 

But suddenly a sharp firing cuts the air about our ears, 
— musketry and artillery, — out beyond us on the Lynch- 
burg pike, where it seems Sheridan had sent Gregg's com- 
mand to stop any free-riding pranks that might be played. 
Gordon springs up from his pile of rails with an air of aston- 
ishment and vexation, declaring that for his part he had 
sent out in good faith orders to hold things as they are. 
And he glances more than inquiringly at Sheridan. " Oh, 
never mind," says Sheridan, "I know about it. Let 'em 
fight!" with two simple words added, which literally taken 
are supposed to express a condemnatoiy judgment, but 
in Sheridan's rhetoric convey his appreciation of highly 
satisfactory qualities of his men, — especially just now. 

One o'clock comes; no answer from Lee. Nothing for 
us but to shake hands and take arms to resume hostilities. 



1 2 - APPOMATTOX 

As I turned to go, General Griffin said to me in a low voice, 
"Prepare to make, or receive, an attack in ten minutes!" 
It was a sudden change of tone in our relations, and brought 
a queer sensation. Where my troops had halted, the op- 
posing lines were in close proximity. The men had stacked 
arms and were resting in place. It did not seem like war 
we were to recommence, but wilful murder. But the order 
was only to "prepare," and that we did. Our troops were 
in good position, — my advanced line across the road; and 
we stood fast intensely waiting. I had mounted and sat 
looking at the scene before me, thinking of all that was im- 
pending and depending; when I felt coming in upon me a 
strange sense of some presence invisible but powerful — 
like those unearthl}^ visitants told of in ancient story, 
charged with supernal message. Disquieted, I turned about ; 
and there behind me, riding in between my two lines, ap- 
peared a commanding form, superbly mounted, richly 
accoutred; of imposing bearing, noble countenance, with 
expression of deep sadness overmastered by deeper strength. 
It is no other than Robert E. Lee! And seen by me for 
the first time within my own lines. I sat immovable, with 
a certain awe and admiration. He was coming, with a 
single staff-officer ^ for the great appointed meeting which 
was to determine momentous issues. 

Not long after, by another inleading road, appeared 
another form — plain, unassuming, simple, and familiar to 
our eyes ; but to the thought as much inspiring awe as Lee 
in his splendor and his sadness. It is Grant! He, too, 
comes with a single aide, — a staff-officer of Sheridan's. ^ 
Slouched hat without cord; common soldier's blouse, un- 
buttoned, on which, however, the four stars; high boots, 
mud-splashed to the top, trousers tucked inside; no sword, 
but the sword-hand deep in the pocket ; sitting his saddle 
with the ease of a bom master; taking no notice of anything, 
all his faculties gathered into intense thought and mighty 
calm. He seemed greater than I had ever seen him, — a 

•Colonel Marshall, chief of staff. 
^Colonel Newhall, 



APPOMATTOX 



13 



look as of another world about him. No wonder I forgot 
altogether to salute him. Anything like that would have 
been too little,. 

He rode on to meet Lee at the courthouse. What 
momentous issues had these two souls to declare! Neither 
of them, in truth, free, nor held in individual bounds alone ; 
no longer testing each other's powers and resources; no 
longer weighing the chances of daring or desperate conflict. 
Instruments of God's hands, they were now to record His 
decree ! 

But the final word is not long coming now. Staff- 
officers are flying, crying "Lee surrenders!" Ah, there was 
some kind of strength left among those worn and famished 
men belting the hills around the springs of the Appomattox, 
who rent the air with shouting and uproar, as if earth and 
sea had joined the song. Our men did what they thought 
their share, and then went to sleep, as they had need to do; 
but in the opposite camp they acted as if they had got hold 
of something too good to keep, and gave it to the stars. 

Besides, they had a supper that night, — which was 
something of a novelty. For we had divided rations with 
our old antagonists now that they were by our side as 
suffering brothers. In truth, Longstreet had come over 
to our camp that evening with an unwonted moisture on 
his martial cheek and compressed words on his lips: "Gen- 
tlemen, I must speak plainly; we are starving over there. 
For God's sake, can you send us something?" We were 
men; and we acted like men, knowing we should suffer for 
it ourselves. We were too short-rationed also, and had 
been for days, and must be for days to come. But we 
forgot Andersonville and Belle Isle that night, and sent over 
to that starving camp share and share alike for all there 
with ourselves; nor thinking the merits of the case dimin- 
ished by the circumstance that part of these provisions 
was what Sheridan had captured from their trains the night 
before. 

At last we sleep — those who can. And so ended that 
9th of April, 1865, — Palm Sunday — in that obscure 



14 ' APPOMATTOX 

little Virginia village now blazoned for immortal fame. 
Graver destinies were determined on that humble field 
than on many of classic and poetic fame. And though 
the issue brought bitterness to some, yet the heart of hu- 
manity the world over thrilled at the tidings. To us, I 
know, who there fell asleep that night, amidst memories 
of things that never can be told, it came like that Palm 
Sunday of old, when the rejoicing multitude met the meekly 
riding King, and cried "Peace in Heaven; glory in the 
highest!" 

Late that night I was summoned to headquarters, where 
General Griffin informed me that I was to command the 
parade on the occasion of the formal surrender of the arms 
and colors of Lee's army. He said the Confederates had 
begged hard to be allowed to stack their anus on the ground 
where they were, and let us go and pick them up after they 
had gone ; but that Grant did not think this quite respectful 
enough to anybody, including the United States of America ; 
and while he would have all private property respected, 
and would permit officers to retain their side arms, he 
insisted that the surrendering army as such should march 
out in due order, and lay down all tokens of Confederate 
authority and organized hostility to the United States, in 
immediate presence of some representative portion of the 
Union army. Griffin added in a significant tone that Grant 
wished the ceremony to be as simple as possible, and that 
nothing should be done to humiliate the manhood of the 
Southern soldiers. 

We felt this honor, but fain would share it. We missed 
our Second and Sixth Corps. They were only three miles 
away, and just moving back to Burkeville. We could not but 
feel something more than a wish that they should be brought 
up to be participants in a consummation to which they 
perhaps more than any had contributed. But whatever 
of honor or privilege came to us of the Fifth Corps was 
accepted not as for any pre-eminent work or worth of ours, 
but in the name of the whole noble Army of the Potomac ; 
with loving remembrance of every man, whether on horse 



APPOMATTOX 15 

or foot or cannon-caisson, whether with shoulder-strap of 
office or of knapsack, — of every man, whether his heart 
beat high with the joy of this hour, or was long since stilled 
in the shallow trenches that furrow the red earth from the 
Antietam to the Appomattox! 

On the morning of the i ith our division had been moved 
over to relieve Turner's of the wenty-Fourth Corps, Army 
of the James, near the courthouse, where they had 
been receiving some of the surrendered arms, especially 
of the artillery on their front, while Mackenzie's cavalry 
had received the surrendered sabres of W. H. F. Lee's 
command. 

At noon of the nth these troops of the Army of the 
James took up the march to Lynchburg, to make sure of 
that yet doubtful point of advantage. Lee and Grant had 
both gone, — Lee for Richmond to see his dying wife, Grant 
for Washington, only that once more to see again Lincoln 
living. The business transactions had been settled; the 
parole papers made out; all was ready for the last turn, — 
the dissolving-view of the Army of Northern Virginia. 

It was now the morning of the 12th of April. I had 
been ordered to have my lines formed for the ceremony 
at sunrise. It was a chill gray morning, depressing to the 
senses. But our hearts made warmth. Great memories 
uprose; great thoughts went forward. We formed along 
the principal street, from the bluff bank of the stream to 
near the courthouse on the left, — to face the last line of 
battle, and receive the last remnant of the arms and colors 
of that great army ours had been created to confront for all 
that death can do for life. We were remnants also, — 
Massachusetts, Maine, Michigan, Maryland, Pennsylvania, 
New York, — veterans, and replaced veterans; cut to pieces, 
cut down, consolidated, divisions into brigades, regiments 
into one gathered by State origin, back to their birth- 
place; this little line — quintessence or metempsychosis of 
Porter's old corps of Gaines's Mill and Malvern Hill; men 
of near blood bom, made nearer by blood shed. Those 
facing us — now thank God, — the same. 



1 6 . APPOMATTOX 

Our earnest eyes scan the busy groups on the opposite 
slopes, breaking camp for the last time, — taking down their 
little shelter-tents and folding them carefully, as precious 
things, then slowly forming ranks as for unwelcome duty. 
And now they move. The dusky swarms forge forward 
into gray columns of march. On they come, with the old 
swinging route step, and swaying battle-flags. In the van, 
the proud Confederate ensign, — the great field of white 
and for canton the star-strewn cross of blue on a field of 
red, this latter escutcheon also the regimental battle-flags — 
following on crowded so thick, by thinning out of men, that 
the whole column seemed crowned with red. At the right 
of our line our little group mounted beneath our flags, the 
red maltese cross on a field of white, erewhile so bravely 
borne through many a field more crimson than itself, its 
mystic meaning now ruling all. 

This was the last scene of such momentous history that 
I was impelled to render some token of recognition; some 
honor also to manhood so high. 

Instructions had been given ; and when the head of each 
division column comes opposite our group, our bugle sounds 
the signal and instantly our whole line from right to left, 
regiment by regiment in succession, gives the soldier's 
salutation, — from the "order arms" to the old "carry" — 
the marching salute. Gordon at the head of the column, 
riding with heavy spirit and downcast face, catches the 
sound of shifting arms, looks up, and, taking the meaning, 
wheels superbly, making with himself and his horse one up- 
lifted figure, with profound salutation as he drops the point 
of his sword to the boot toe ; then facing to his own com- 
mand, gives word for his successive brigades to pass us with 
the same position of the manual, — honor answering honor. 
On our part not a sound of trumpet more, nor roll of drum; 
not a cheer, nor word nor whisper of vain-glorying, nor 
motion of man standing again at the order; but an awed 
stillness rather and breath-holding, as if it were the passing 
of the dead! 

As each successive division masks our own, it halts 



APPOMATTOX 17 

the men face inward towards us across the road, twelve 
feet away; then carefully "dress" their line, each captain 
taking pains for the good appearance of his company, worn 
and torn and half starved as they were. The field and 
staff take their positions in the intervals of regiments; 
generals in rear of their commands. They fix bayo- 
nets, stack arms; then, hesitatingly, remove cartridge-boxes 
and lay them down. Lastly, — reluctantly, with agony of 
expression, — they tenderly fold their flags, battle-worn 
and torn, blood-stained, heart-holding colors, and lay 
them down; some frenziedly rushing from the ranks, 
kneeling over them, clinging to them, pressing them to 
their lips with burning tears. And only the Flag of the 
Union greets the sky! 

What visions thronged as we looked into each others' 
eyes! Here pass the men of Antietam, the Bloody Lane, 
the Sunken Road, the Cornfield, the Burnside-Bridge; the 
men whom Stonewall Jackson on the second night at Fred- 
ericksburg begged Lee to let him take and crush the two 
corps of the Army of the Potomac huddled in the streets 
in darkness and confusion; the men who swept away the 
Eleventh Corps at Chancellorsville ; who left six thousand 
of their companions around the bases of Culp's and Cem- 
etery Hills at Gettysburg; these survivors of the terrible 
Wilderness, the Bloody-Angle at Spottsylvania, the 
slaughter pen of Cold Harbor, the whirlpool of Bethesada 
Church! 

Here comes Cobb's Georgia Legion, which held the 
stonewall on Marye's Heights at Fredericksburg, close before 
which we piled our dead for breastworks so that the living 
might stay and live. 

Here too come Gordon's Georgians and Hoke's North 
Carolinians, who stood before the terrific mine explosion 
at Petersburg, and advancing retook the smoking crater 
and the dismal heaps of dead — ours more than theirs — 
huddled in the ghastly chasm. 

Here are the men of McGowan, Hunton, and Scales, 
who broke the Fifth Corps lines on the White Oak road, 



1 8 APPOMATTOX 

and were so desperately driven back on that forlorn night 
of March 31st by my thrice-decimated brigade. 

Now comes Anderson's Fourth Corps, — only Bushrod 
Johnson's division left, and this the remnant of those 
we fought so fiercely on the Quaker road, two weeks ago, 
with Wise's Legion, too fierce for its own good. 

Here passes the proud remnant of Ransom's North Car- 
olinians we swept through Five Forks ten days ago, — and 
all the little that was left of this division in the sharp pas- 
sages at Sailor's Creek five days thereafter. 

Now makes its last front A. P. Hill's old corps, — Heth 
now at the head, since Hill had gone too far forward ever 
to return: the men who poured destruction into our divi- 
sion at Shepardstown Ford, Antietam, in '62, when Hill re- 
ported the Potomac running blue with our bodies; the 
men who opened the desperate first day's fight at Gettys- 
burg, where withstanding them so stubbornly our Robin- 
son's brigades lost 1185 men, and the Iron Brigade alone 
1 153, — these men of Heth's division here too losing 2850 
men, companions of these now looking into our faces 
so differently. 

What is this but the remnant of Mahone's division, 
last seen by us at the North Anna? its thinned ranks of worn, 
bright-eyed men recalling scenes of costly valor and ever- 
remembered history. 

Now the sad great pageant, — Longstreet and his men! 
What shall we give them for greeting that has not already 
been spoken in volleys of thunder and written in lines of 
fire on all the river-banks of Virginia? Shall we go back 
to Gaines's Mill and Malvern Hill? Or to the Antietam of 
Maryland, or Gettysburg of Pennsylvania? — deepest graven 
of all. For here is what remains of Kershaw's division, 
which left 40 per cent, of its men at Antietam, and at Gettys- 
burg with Barksdale's and Semmes's brigades tore through 
the Peach Orchard, rolling up the right of our gallant Third 
Corps, sweeping over the proud batteries of Massachusetts, 
— Bigelow and Philips, — where under the smoke we saw 
the earth brown and blue with prostrate bodies of horses 



APPOMATTOX 19 

and men, and the tongues of overturned cannon and cais- 
sons pointing grim and stark in the air. 

Then in the Wilderness and at Spottsylvania Kershaw 
again, in deeds of awful glory, and thereafter, for all their 
losses, holding their name and fame, until fate met them 
at Sailor's Creek, where all but these, with Kershaw himself, 
and Ewell, and so many more, gave up their arms and 
hopes, — all, indeed, but manhood's honor. 

With what strange emotion I looked into these faces 
before which in the mad assault on Rives's Salient, June 
18, '64, I was left for dead under their eyes! It is by 
miracles we have lived to see this day, — any of us standing 
here. 

Now comes the sinewy remnant of fierce Hood's division, 
which at Gettysburg we saw pouring through the De\drs 
Den, and the Plum Run gorge; turning again by the left 
our stubborn Third Corps, then swarming up the rocky 
bastions of Round Top, to be met there by equal valor, 
which changed Lee's whole plan of battle, and perhaps the 
story of Gettysburg. 

Ah, is this Pickett's division? — this little group, left 
of those who on the lurid last day of Gettysburg breasted 
level cross-fire and thunderbolts of storm, to be strewn back 
drifting wrecks, where after that awful, futile, pitiful charge 
we buried them in graves a furlong wide, with names 
unknown ! 

Met again in the terrible cyclone-sweep over the breast- 
works at Five Forks; met now, so thin, so pale, purged 
of the mortal, — as if knowing pain or joy no more. How 
could we help falling on our knees, — all of us together, — 
and praying God to pity and forgive us all ! 

Thus, all day long, division after division comes and 
goes, — the surrendered arms being removed by our wagons 
in the intervals, the cartridge-boxes emptied in the street 
when the ammunition was found unserviceable, our men 
meanwhile resting in place. 

When all is over, in the dusk of evening, the long lines 
of scattered cartridges are set on fire; and the lurid flames 



20 APPOMATTOX 

wreathing the blackness of earthly shadows give an un- 
earthly border to our parting. 

Then, stripped of every token of enmity or instrument 
of power to hurt, they march off to give their word of honor 
never to lift arms against the old flag again till its holders 
release them from their promise. Then, their ranks 
broken, — the bonds that bound them fused away by forces 
stronger than fire, — they are free at last to go where they 
will; to find their homes, now most likely stricken, de- 
spoiled by war. 

Twenty-seven thousand men paroled; seventeen thou- 
sand stand of arms laid down or gathered up; a hundred 
battle- flags. But regiments and brigades — or what is 
left of them — have scarce a score of arms to surrender; 
having thrown them away by road and riverside in weari- 
ness of flight or hopelessness of heart, disdaining to carry 
them longer but to disaster. And many a bare staff was 
there laid down, from which the ensign had been torn in the 
passion and struggle of emotions, and divided piece by 
piece, — a blurred or shrunken star, a rag of smoke-stained 
blue from the war-worn cross, a shred of deepened dye from 
the rent field of red, — to be treasured for precious keepsakes 
of manhood's test and heirlooms for their children. 

Nor blame them too much for this ; nor us for not blaming 
them more. Although, as we believed, fatally wrong in 
striking at the old flag, misreading its deeper meaning and 
the innermost law of the people's life, blind to the signs of 
the times in the march of man, they fought as they were 
taught, true to such ideals as they saw, and put into their 
cause their best. For us they were fellow-soldiers as well, 
suffering the fate of arms. We could not look into those 
brave, bronzed faces, and those battered flags we had met 
on so many fields where glorious manhood lent a glory to 
the earth that bore it, and think of personal hate and mean 
revenge. Whoever had misled these men, we had not. We 
had led them back, home. Whoever had made that quarrel, 
we had not. It was a remnant of the inherited curse for 
sin. We had purged it away, with blood-offerings. We 



APPOMATTOX 21 

were all of us together factors of that high will which, 
working often through illusions of the human, and following 
ideals that lead through storms, evolves the enfranchise- 
ment of man. 

Forgive us, therefore, if from stern, steadfast faces eyes 
dimmed with tears gazed at each other across that pile of 
storied relics so dearly there laid down, and brothers' hands 
were fain to reach across that rushing tide of memories 
which divided us yet made us forever one. 

It was our glory only that the victory we had won was 
for country; for the well-being of others, of these men 
before us as well as for ourselves and ours. Our joy was 
a deep, far, unspoken satisfaction, — the approval, as it 
were, of some voiceless and veiled divinity like the ap- 
pointed "Angel of the Nation" of which the old scriptures 
tell — leading and looking far, yet mindful of sorrows; 
standing above all human strife and fierce passages of 
trial; not marking faults nor seeking blame; transmuting 
into factors of the final good corrected errors and forgiven 
sins; assuring of immortal inheritance all pure purpose and 
noble endeavor, humblest service and costliest sacrifice, 
unconscious and even mistaken martyrdoms offered and 
suffered for the sake of man. 



